


walking in the wind

by harrysl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Style, M/M, Prince!Louis, a royalty au of sorts?, and he's very talkative, fairy!harry, harry sits on a cloud, if you look for it, larry stylinson - Freeform, louis lives in a gold castle, there's probably a moral in here somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysl/pseuds/harrysl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The closest thing we have to the ocean is lake in the middle of a field, but there are no waves and the water isn’t salty. Most of the time, the surface is as smooth as glass, but what’s really striking about it is the fact that the water is the most beautiful shade of sapphire blue. None of us have ever seen such a rich colour anywhere else. Except for me, of course, because I’ve just met you, and your eyes are precisely the same colour as the lake back home. It’s why you could help me calm down for the first time in two decades just by being next to me, you see. You remind me of home.”</p><p>or</p><p>in which louis is a prince with a gold heart who feels as though there is something missing in the people around him; that is, until he finds harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walking in the wind

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work ever and i am vvv proud of it even though it's quite shitty buT thank you for dropping by i hope you enjoy
> 
> also, the language is kinda formal and it's written in the traditional fairy tale style so if you don't like that sort of stuff then this isn't for you ://
> 
> ALso, louis and harry's names aren't mentioned that much. i don't know how that affects anything but it seems right to put it out there beforehand

_I: just close your eyes and see_

 

There once was a beautiful kingdom where summer lasted all year round. There the forests were thick and lush, the plants grew exuberantly, and the fruits they provided were abundant. Rivers ran through the land like great blue snakes, their water so pure and clean that the farmers working nearby often paused to take a drink. There were animals, too; deers that grew flowers on their horns, fish with silver scales, and birds with multicolored plumage, who perched on windowsills and sang to anyone who happened to be listening. Children played in the streets, laughing and crying out joyfully. Each and every citizen lived merrily.

In the very heart of this kingdom stood a castle. Oh, what a sight it was! The shiny wooden doors were narrow and tall, like soldiers standing on duty. Inside them, there were halls with their ceiling so high is felt as though you were standing in the open sky, and the walls were covered in the most magnificent paintings. The ballroom was large enough to encage a dragon and still give it enough space to stretch its legs. The floors were all made of polished marble with elegant patterns in blues and greens and reds. However, its true magnificence laid on outside of the castle, where the walls were completely made of gold that shone so bright in the sunlight, passers-by would sometimes have to shield their eyes. 

In this castle, there lived a king who laughed like a cannon being blasted, and a queen with a small, sharp mouth. There were also lots of servants, who scurried around like mice and served the royal family. However, these inhabitants to the castle were almost like distractions, for the only person who even mattered was the prince. His name was Louis William Tomlinson and, coincidentally, he is both the beginning and the end of this story.

Being the king and queen’s only son, the prince was always given the very best. He wore the finest clothes made of silk and soft leather, and was only to be served the most expensive champagnes. He also loved to dance, and he had the privilege of using the ballroom whenever he liked, even if it were in the middle of night. Whatever the prince needed, it was brought to him in a second.

One would certainly think that with a life like his, the prince must be very selfish and arrogant. This was not even close to being true, however, because the prince had a heart that was just as golden as the walls of the castle. He was full of love and empathy, and everyone who had ever met him could say that he was the most good-natured person for miles around.

He was very happy being where he was and doing what he did. In fact, he often felt as though he had a much better life than he deserved, but he was grateful nonetheless. The king and queen, however, had different views; they were both quite disturbed that the prince was getting old and had still not married. 

“I say it’s because he never sees any girls around here,” said the queen in her pinched voice as she buttered her morning slice of bread. “Apart from those scrawny maids, of course, but you would do better marrying a pile of dirt than to fall in love with one of them.” This made the king choke on his tea. After sputtering for a long moment, he let out a booming laugh that echoed through the room.

“I do wish you would be kinder to our servants though, mother, for some of them are really not as horrible as you say they are,” said the prince. “Not that I would ever want to marry any of them, of course,” he added hurriedly. Personally, he thought that getting married to a servant was no different from getting married to a princess, but he kept this to himself. The queen could be quite close-minded sometimes, but the prince still loved her, and he always tried to keep on her good side by agreeing to everything she said.

“We’ll just need to get some girls to come and meet him in our castle,” said the king. “I take it that he’ll find a wife in no time.” 

Soon after, there were posters and banners plastered on every single wall in the kingdom. Pages were sent out to read the announcement from scrolls in crowded market squares. The messages were all the same, and you heard about it everywhere you went: the prince was looking for a wife, and anyone who looked decent enough were permitted to come to the castle and meet the prince. 

Within days, there were girls turning up from all sorts of faraway places, all in hopes of winning the prince’s heart. The prince had a chat with all of them, for he thought it would be rude to tell them all that he was not at all interested. He met girls who looked way older than they claimed to be, and girls with garbled accents; girls who walked into the castle barefoot, and once, even a woman who admitted that she was already married and had three children. Many of them looked as though they were forcefully stuffed into fine clothing like a plucked turkey in a ballgown, and everyone who saw them could only call them beautiful with their eyes closed. 

People kept coming and going day by day, but the prince didn’t feel as though he has met anyone that felt right, as everyone had assured him he would. Instead, he just felt exhausted and sullen at the end of each day. To make matters worse, the king and queen’s concerns were contagious. Every night, he laid wide awake on his silken sheets despite his fatigue, and stared at the flowy canopies hanging from the ceiling, thinking hard. Will he really be unmarried for the rest of his life? And what was wrong with him, being so picky with who he wanted as a wife? Of course, he could remember lots of girls whom he had tried to like, and for some of them it was really not that hard. But when he looked into their eyes, he always got the same strange feeling that there was something missing.

These thoughts bothered the prince so much that he found it hard to sleep or eat. Dark circles were soon visible underneath his blue eyes that were once so bright, but now showed nothing but weariness. The king and queen noticed this and called for doctors to come and patch him up, but none of them could figure out what was wrong with him. In fact, he seemed to be almost in perfect health. 

What they didn’t know was that the prince’s gold heart was slowly collapsing into itself, burying all of his hope and his happiness in the debris. When he touched a hand to his chest, he could feel, very faintly, a sharp tremble against his fingertips whenever his heart beat. Sometimes, he thought he could even hear a delicate tinkling sound, like a glass ornament being shattered. It always seemed to be coming from deep within his own chest, and no one else ever seemed to notice whenever it happened. 

It became apparent that the prince had to seek other means of help, for if he didn’t, his heart was sure to become nothing but a pile of rumble. So when it was announced that a ball would be hosted in the castle one evening, he decided to seize the opportunity. 

The ballroom was bustling with laughter and music when he slipped out of the castle. It was a very mild evening, and the air was sweet against his skin. He walked along a forlorn path at the edge of the forest until he reached a clearing, where there stood a single straw hut with purple smoke rising out of one of its many chimneys. This was where the old witch lived.

He was just about to knock on the door when it was flung open from the inside, revealing a squat little woman with crooked eyes and a mouth too big for her face. Her patchy threadbare pants were pulled up so that the waistband was nearly at her chin. 

“I saw you coming,” she said simply, in a voice that sounded like a frog’s croak, and beckoned the prince inside. What she said was very confusing for him, because as soon as he stepped into the threshold, he could see quite plainly that there was not a single window.

It was a very small hut, and smelled strongly of mothballs. Now that the prince was inside, he could see that there was a great big cauldron sitting on top of the fireplace, filled to the brim with bubbling purple liquid. Every now and then, the liquid sloshed around and spilled a little onto the stone floor.

“You’re here because of your broken heart,” said the witch suddenly. Her voice was really quite scratchy, and the prince had to fight the urge to offer her a cough drop. Instead, he simply nodded.

“And you’re looking for something, though you do not know what it is,” she stated again. The prince - now finding it quite peculiar to have his problems recited to him by someone he’s never met before - said nothing.

The witch sighed.

“Very well, then. Young men and women come to me all the time and plead for me to mend their broken hearts. But I never do, you see, because if they are foolish enough to have broken their hearts, why would I take the time and effort to mend them, if they’re just going to run off and get break them once more?” She sighed again. A great, rasping noise that sounded like the snore of a whale. “But I can see that you did not break your heart. It has been broken by something you could not have prevented – and that, Louis, makes all the difference.”

Then she hobbled out the door. The prince could do nothing but stare at the doorway where she had disappeared. Everyone who knew him, including the king and the queen, had always called him ‘the prince’, or occasionally just ‘boy’. In fact, his surname was so seldom brought up that he was sure even his mother had forgotten it. Not that he was complaining, of course, because his name had always felt foreign to him, even when it was coming from his own mouth. To hear the witch say it sounded so peculiar, the prince had to pinch himself very hard on the arm to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

After a short while, the witch hobbled back into the hut, holding a single dandelion. She walked right up to the prince, held out his hand, and pressed it into his palm. Then, she looked at him as though he were a loaf of bread she was about to devour, her face so close to his he could smell her fetid breath. One of her eyes was fixed on the prince’s. The other stared at something on the cobwebbed ceiling.

“You must listen carefully now, Louis,” she said quietly. With each word, the prince was wafted in the face by the stench of over-boiled cabbages and something that smelled suspiciously like raw fish. “This dandelion will bring you to what you need. You blow off a single seed for guidance, and two for aid, but you must be very careful. Each seed contains power beyond anything your dim mind could ever imagine. If you blow off too many seeds at once, you will disintegrate to ashes like that!” she rasped, snapping her boney fingers under the prince’s nose. She paused for a moment, as if for effect, before continuing in an even lower voice, so that she was almost whispering. The prince held his breath – and if you had been in his situation, you would know perfectly well that the gesture had nothing to do with anticipation. “Travel only by night, and you will find what your heart is seeking.” 

The witch gave him one last hard look, before she hobbled to the fireplace and started stirring in the cauldron with a tiny wooden spoon. When she didn’t address him again, the prince slipped silently out of the hut.

He took the path back to the castle, where the ballroom was still buzzing with movement. As much as he loved to dance, he did not join the ball. Instead, he sat down on the front stairs of the castle, which were covered in a thick velvety carpet, and watched the clouds as they chased each other across the sky. Threads of pink and gold swirled together in a fiery dance, spinning in slow motion into a whirl of colour. Oh, how majestic they were, and how grand! But too soon were they washed away by the darkness, leaving behind not a single trace of their grandeur. All that remained was the blue canvas of the sky, looking untouched as ever.

When the sun had sunk low behind the mountains, the prince brought the dandelion to his lips and blew very carefully, so that a single seed floated off. But instead of drifting down to the ground, it emitted a soft glow, and began to float away in the opposite direction of the breeze. The prince quickly tucked the dandelion into his pocket and followed.

The seed led him to the outskirts of the city. At some point, the prince turned around to look at the castle, but his view was so blocked by other buildings that all he had was a glimpse of one of its walls, which was twinkling in the moonlight. The sight suddenly filled him with sadness. Inside those four gold walls was his home, his comfort, and all that he had ever known. He thought of the queen with her pinched voice and narrow mind, and of the king’s sonorous laugh that always filled every crevice of the castle. He thought of the times when they would dance all through the night, and only emerge from the ballroom in the early hours of the morning, still buzzing with adrenaline. He thought of the glassy marble floors with their brilliant colors and patterns, and of sliding along the halls in socked feet as a child. He even thought of the servants, with their eyes trailing along the magnificent floors, and no other purpose in their lives but to serve a family too arrogant to take care of themselves. 

The prince wanted to turn back, to abandon the dandelion seed and join the ball, and to never have to leave the safety of his castle. But he knew, deep down, that what he needed was a thousand times more vital to him than any castle and any safety. He still didn’t know what he was soughting out to find, but he was determined to find it nonetheless. 

With one last look at the shimmering gold wall, he turned back around to see that the seed had floated on so far, it was nothing more than a speck of light in the distance. 

The prince ran to catch up, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he went. 

He did not look back.

 

 

_II: goodbyes are bittersweet (but it’s not the end)_

 

The night was dark as ebony. So dark, in fact, that the prince could hardly see the outline of his hand when he held it out in front of his face. In the heavy darkness, the gentle glow of the dandelion seed seemed to be as bright as the sun. It shone like a beacon in the air, and it lead the prince on and on, until the ground beneath his feet changed from soil to gravel to grass and the sky began to lighten. 

Just as the sun was starting to shine, the seed suddenly gave a blinding flash. In the next moment, it had disintegrated into ash, and fell in a small heap at the prince’s feet.

The prince wanted to examine it, but the ash was so fine that it was almost indistinguishable from the dirt on the ground, and there was no point in trying. Instead, he straightened up and took in his surroundings for the first time.

A lush green plain stretched on like a thick green carpet as far as the eye could see. There were mountains in the distance, but they were not the familiar ones he had so often seen from his bedroom window. Buffaloes frolicked sleepily all around him, hunched over and trailing beards, huffing and puffing like old men. A crow flew, inky black against the clear blue sky, and came to a rest on one of the buffaloes’ horns. It cawed in a voice like sandpaper, staring at the prince with its beady black eyes. 

The prince had never been in such a place before. Back in his castle, he had deep green sheets made of shimmery cloth instead of grass. There were bright-feathered birds that sang to them in sweet voices instead of dull crows. And compared to the scent of roses and delicious food that always lingered in the air, the smell of buffalo dung was the most repulsive of all. But despite all this, the prince did not complain. It was what farmers and peasants were forced to deal all the time, after all; and if they could go through it so often, he could stand it for now.

He made his way around the stocky animals, careful not to step on anything malodorous, to a lone tree close by, where he sat down and stretched his legs. He was very tired, for he had not been able to rest at all during the night. The seed had moved quite swiftly in the air, as if eager to show the prince to his destination, and he hadn’t been able to pause for fear of losing it from sight. 

Consumed with exhaustion, he laid down on the grass and slept. Women in fine clothing weaved in and out of his dreams, pleading for him to take their hand in marriage. There was a buffalo in a silk dressing gown, wandering around in the great marble halls of his castle and accidentally puncturing a painting with its horns. The prince wanted to shoo the buffalo away before he tore up more of the artwork on the walls, but as he opened his mouth to call out, he found that he was so very far away from the scene, and his voice rung and echoed into nothingness. It was like watching from above deep well...

Darkness was falling when he awoke. As he sat up, he realized that his back was more sore than it has ever been in his life. He was so used to feathery soft mattresses that this was quite unsettling for him. Nonetheless, he waited until sunset had passed, then took out the dandelion from pocket and blew once more. A single seed detached, spun a little in the breeze as it glowed, and began to float away. The prince got up and followed.

Night by night, he passed rusty desserts, sleeping towns, and lonely beaches with the moon scattered on its waves. He wove in and out of dark forest paths which, despite the prince’s masked bravery, he found quite frightening. However, if there were any beasts hiding in the shadows, they were all driven away by the cordial glow of the dandelion seed. Once, the prince even encountered a canyon, but he had only to blow off another seed to join the first, hold on tight to them, and they carried him safely across to the other side. He walked in the wind, through harsh downpours, and sometimes even through snow that laid thick on the ground. He walked for a long, long time; resting during the day and travelling by night, the dandelion his only companion. Never once did he come across something he couldn’t handle.

That is, until one windy evening, when the seed brought him to the foot of a great big mountain. The prince couldn’t even see the summit from where he was standing! It was no ordinary mountain, either. This one was made completely of glass and crystal, and it shimmered slightly in the faint moonlight. Here and there it was adorned with gemstones that gleamed like the eyes of a creature. What a sight! In fact, it was so exquisitely beautiful that the prince stood there with his mouth hanging open for a long time. 

He peered at the mountain, and his reflection peered back at him. Oh, how dreadful he looked! His face was smudged with dirt, and his hair was at an alarming length. The clothes he wore, once so striking, were now tattered and soiled. His cheekbones stood out more than ever, which gave his whole face a hollow look. Over time, he had also grown a beard, which was the most shocking thing of all, because the prince had never grown a beard before. The only thing that hadn’t changed were the circles under his eyes, so dark they looked like bruises. And when the prince looked into his own eyes, they were more profound and whole than he had ever seen them, like fragments of the ocean caught in his lashes. He touched a hand to his chest, and was surprised to feel his heart beating strong and steady against his ribs. He listened carefully, but there was no tinkling sound to be heard.

He reached a hand into his pocket for the dandelion, for he was sure that if he blew off another seed to join the first, they would carry him to the top of the mountain just as they had carried him across the canyon. But when he pulled it out and had brought it to his lips, he realized that there was only one seed left. And being a very careful kind of person, he tucked the dandelion back into his pocket, for he thought he might need it more later on. Instead, he threw his beard over his left shoulder, and began to climb.

It wasn’t an easy task. The glass was as slippery as though someone had poured water over them, and the prince had nothing to hold onto apart from some gemstones that were hardly big enough. But he climbed nonetheless, and he did not give up. 

He climbed for so long he lost count of how many rubies he had used as footholds. He climbed on and on, and gradually the sun began to rise, its light shining on the mountain in such away that made its glass surface look like gold. _Just like the walls of my beloved castle,_ he thought. _My beautiful home, which I will perhaps never see again._ His eyes filled with tears, but they had nothing to do with the thought of the castle, oh, no! It was simply the wind picking up, and it blew right in the prince’s eyes, making them water. 

The tears just made the mountain even harder to scale, for his vision was blurry and he glass was slippery as ever. Yet as hard as he tried, he could not stem them. _This sure is some strong wind!_ thought the prince through his sobs. _I have never experienced anything like this before. How peculiar!_

Soon after, when the sun had risen completely over the surrounding mountain peaks, the dandelion seed in front of him disintegrated as usual. This would not have bothered the prince, if only it hadn’t showered his face with the relics. But despite the mouthful of fine ash, he did not stop climbing. He didn’t need guidance to know where he ought to be going now. Inexplicably, his heart was telling him that at the top of the mountain, it would be the beginning of something new, and it lead the prince on through his fatigue. 

He climbed and climbed until finally, when it was almost afternoon, he got to the point where the mountain reached into the clouds. His hands were blistered and his whole body ached, but the prince hardly noticed any of this, for he was consumed by curiosity. Could this be the end of his journey, or was there more to come? And what laid on the other side of the clouds? Could it be a castle greater and grander than his own? 

No, that could not be it, thought the prince. In his heart, there could no castle gander than his – even if both the floor and the ceiling were covered in gold as well as the outside walls. What he would find must be something that even the king and the queen could not have procured for him – which was why he had had to embark on this journey in the first place. Surely there would be a pretty girl sitting on a throne at the peak of the mountain, waiting for him to come rescue her. None of the girls at home had ever felt right to him, after all.

He mustered all the strength he had left, for his muscles were all very sore, and climbed right into the clouds. 

What he saw confused him for a moment. There was no castle, no splendid gates to welcome him, no throne, and no pretty girl sitting on it. Instead, there was only a boy, sitting on the edge of a cloud with his back facing the prince. 

Very carefully, the prince climbed onto the cloud. He tiptoed to the boy, though there was really no need, because the cloud was like soft cotton under his feet and muffled his footsteps. As he got closer, he realized that the boy was crying, his sobs resonating loudly in the still air and his shoulders heaving. The prince also noticed a pair of wings that hung from his back, so delicate and pellucid they looked as though a single touch would break them; and broken they were. It was obvious that they had been strong and handsome once, but they were now tattered and bent at odd angles.

The prince crept closer and got a glimpse at his face. His eyes were as green as a lush forest, and filled to the brim with tears that seemed to be refilling themselves whenever a drop rolled down his cheeks. It was a heart wrenching sight! Seeing him in such a state was enough to overcome the prince with his own sadness, for he wanted desperately to help him dry his eyes and to make sure not a single tear ever rolled down those rosy cheeks again.

He sat down on the cloud beside the boy who, perhaps consumed by grief, did not start. In fact, he didn’t seem to realize the prince was there at all. He just kept weeping into his hands and choking out sobs that made the prince’s heart stir dolefully. 

“Are you alright?” asked the prince in a gentle voice. It was a ridiculous question, really, because how could anyone be alright when they’re sobbing their lungs out?  
But the boy seemed to be too upset to respond, so the prince just tentatively put a hand around him as he continued to weep.

After what felt like forever, the boy’s sobs turned into nothing but weak sniffles. The prince could still feel him shivering, though it may not have been because of the cold. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his torn gown, which looked too thin to actually offer warmth and was slipping off of his delicate shoulders. In fact, everything about him just looked light and wispy, as though he could be blown away by the wind at any moment.

_Now that won’t do at all,_ thought the prince, and he slipped off his own travelling cloak to wrap around the boy’s shoulders. The air was cold and frigid, and it reached its piercing fingers through the thin fabric of the prince’s tunic, making his teeth chatter, but he didn’t notice any of this; he only had attention for the precarious boy sitting beside him.

“What brings you here?” asked the boy suddenly. His voice was still a little shaky, but it was mellow and smooth, and he peered into the prince’s eyes as if he had never seen anything like them before. “You’re the first person who’s ever come up ever since I got here-” he counted on his fingers “-two decades ago. An evil queen cast me here because I was apparently too much of a menace to her and her boyfriends, you see. I’ve been sitting here and crying ever since. Well, until you came, of course. That was the first time I’ve stopped crying in two decades. Thank god you did, too, because I was afraid I’d run out of tears!” Then he giggled in a sweet voice that sounded like silver bells. 

He was really an unusual boy. His wings, his demeanor, and the way he spoke were all very new to the prince. However, none of this was all that strange compared to the prince’s heart, which had the curious sensation that it was melting.

“Back where I came from, flowers grew everywhere you looked,” said the boy. “They bloomed in pink and blue and lilac, and they gave off the most delightful fragrances. They all smell different for different people, you see, depending on what you love and what you long for. For example, when I’m standing in a field of flowers, I smell sunshine and honeysuckles and freshly baked bread.” He held out his arms and tilted his face upwards, eyes closed, as though he were reliving his memories.

“Sometimes, I even catch a whiff of sea breeze. I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean, you see, but I’ve never gotten the chance to see it,” he said, snapping out of his trance and looking at the prince instead, his eyes twinkling excitedly. “I supposed this cloud has passed over it at some point, but my eyes must have been too blurred by tears to see.” 

The prince hadn’t thought about the movement of the clouds at all until now, and sure enough, when he craned his neck to look at where he had come up from the mountain, there was nothing. Far out in the distance, he thought he could just make out the glint of glass in the sun.

“The closest thing we have to the ocean is lake in the middle of a field,” continued the boy. “But there are no waves, and the water isn’t salty. Most of the time, the surface is as smooth as glass, but what’s really striking about it is the fact that the water is the most beautiful shade of sapphire blue. None of us have ever seen such a rich colour anywhere else. Except for me, of course, because I’ve just met you, and your eyes are precisely the same colour as the lake back home. It’s why you could help me calm down for the first time in two decades just by being next to me, you see. You remind me of home.” He turned to the prince, and flashed him a smile brighter than the sun itself.

It became apparent that the boy was quite talkative when he wasn’t weeping in earnest, and he had lots of stories to tell. Where he lived, he told the prince, there were butterflies so large, you could ride on their backs as though they were dragons. There were also waterfalls that shone like crystal in the sunlight, and trees that made a tinkling sound when they rustled in the wind. In fact, he found out that the boy wasn’t a boy after all, but a fairy, which was the reason for his wings. 

“And when the evil queen threw me here, she tore up my wings, so that I couldn’t escape,” he finished with a sigh, and gave his wings a weak flutter. “I was beautiful once, too, but now my clothes are all dirty and my hair is tangled.” He held out his arms and inspected the cuts and bruises that covered them. Then he fiddled with his hair, which must have been smooth and silky once, but was now messy and disheveled.

Despite all this, the prince couldn’t help but think that he was indeed the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He didn’t wear splendid robes or waltz as graceful as a swan like the girls the prince had seen back in his castle, yet there was something about him that just couldn’t be compared to any amount of finery or grace. It was almost as though he were glowing with something more, and it reached right into the prince’s chest and held on tightly to his heart. 

Then the boy asked him about his story, and the prince told it all. He had been so deprived of company and for so long, that once he started talking it was very hard to stop. Not that he needed to, for the boy listened intently and never once interrupted. The prince told him about scaling the glass mountain, and of the lovely places he had passed but had only seen by moonlight. He told of his magical dandelion, and of the witch with crooked eyes who gave it to him. He told him about the kingdom where summer had no end, about the gold walls of the castle, about the marble floors and the marvelous ballroom, and was just starting to describe his mother and father when he suddenly burst into tears.

This time, it was the boy who held him as he sobbed into his hands, and only after what felt like another two decades did the prince stop weeping. 

“I’m sorry about that,” said the prince weakly as he dabbed at his eyes with a grimy handkerchief. 

“It’s alright,” said the boy. “What I’ve discovered is that crying is the only solution to some things. Perhaps it’s because your problems get washed away from your mind, and when you stop crying you realize that you don’t remember what you were crying about in the first place, which somehow makes life seem all the better. Look!” he exclaimed, pointing at the prince’s eyes. “Your eyes are a shade lighter than before. You should really never cry again, even if you have all the problems in the world, because what if you use up all the blue? Then you’ll only have the white, with two tiny black dots in the middle like watermelon seeds.” He put his fingers in front of his eyes and mimed the irised shrinking, and he laughed.

The prince wanted to spend more time with him, to learn all about him and to know every crevice of him like the back of his hand. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded being stuck on the cloud for the rest of eternity if it meant he had the boy with him. But as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky, the prince also grew more and more urgent. The realization had waltzed right across his mind, and he finally understood what he was seeking to find on his journey. Deep in his heart, he knew what he had to do, and he needed the darkness of the night to help him with it.

“Listen,” he said to the boy as the sun started to sink behind a nearby mountain, its peak surfacing above the clouds like a particularly large rock in a stream. “When night comes, you must take the dandelion, blow off the last seed, and hold on to it, for I am sure it will suffice for you. It will carry you down the cloud and guide you back to your beautiful home.” As he said this, he pulled out the dandelion from his pocket, and pressed it into the boy’s palm, just as the witch had done to him so long ago.

The boy, however, didn’t get up from where he was sitting. In fact, he didn’t close his hand around the dandelion at all. He just looked at the prince with astonishment in his eyes. 

“You can’t really be giving me this, can you? You’ve travelled so far and for so long, it would be so foolish to stop now. You must find what you are seeking!” And with this, he handed the dandelion back to the prince, who did not take it. Instead, he was looking in the direction of the sun, which was now almost half covered by the mountain.

“The sun is already setting. Quick! You will need all the time you can have, it’s a long journey from the clouds down onto the ground,” he said, but still the boy did not move. 

“But what about your journey? What about your castle with the gold walls and the ballroom big enough to encage a dragon? And what about the king and queen, whom you cared so much about? Don’t you want to return to them?” he asked, but the prince just smiled.

“Don’t you see? I have already found what I was seeking. I left the castle with a broken heart and a desire to be whole, to find someone who felt right to me, and who, when I looked into their eyes, I could see the moon and the stars and the whole universe within them. This is the end of my journey, because I have found you.” There were silent tears running down his face now, but he kept talking. “The castle will not collapse without me. The ballroom will not lose its grandeur. As for the king and queen, they have surely wept enough tears to refill a dry riverbed, but eventually they will dry their eyes and learn to live on.

“Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand? All I need now is to know that you will be safe and sound. My journey will not have been for nothing if you promise to take the dandelion and to return home where you belong.”

The prince gently nudged the boy until he was standing, and places the stem of the dandelion upright in his hand. Looking as though he were speechless, the boy walked to the edge of the cloud and peered down. In front of him, only a glimpse of the sun could still be seen. 

“Are you sure there are no other ways?” asked the boy. The words tumbled from his mouth as though he had been trying to hold them back. “Can’t you hold on to the dandelion seed too? Then, perhaps you would be able to come home with me, and I’ll show you all of things I told you about. You’ll even see the lake that looks so much like your eyes!”

But the prince did nothing but shake his head with a sad smile.

“Please, I can’t leave without you,” said the boy, the desperation clear in his voice now. “Even if I get home safe, the guilt of leaving you behind would be enough to tear me apart.”

“I have gotten what I have asked for, and that is enough for a lifetime. Don’t worry for me. I have nothing to fear, and you shouldn’t, either. ”

The sun was completely submerged now. Only a few rays of sunlight lingered.

“Is there a way I’ll ever be able to repay you for this?” asked the boy. “Anything at all?”

“All I ask for is for you to remember me, and that way, I will never be truly gone,” said the prince. “And if you’re ever lost, just look for me and you’ll find me in the region of the summer stars. But now, the sun has set, and you must go.”

The boy brought the dandelion stem to his lips and blew gently. The very last seed detached, spun for a moment, and began to glow. Quickly, he seized it, and the seed began to float upwards, lifting him until his feet hovered above the ground. 

“The best of luck to you!” the prince called out as the boy began to glide downwards. But he did not go quietly; he was kicking and flailing his legs as if he wanted to swim through the air and be back at the prince’s side. 

“What’s your name?” the boy hollered, for despite all his struggling, the seed was still swiftly bringing him away from the cloud and it was getting quite hard to hear each other.

“Louis William Tomlinson!” the prince hollered just as loudly. “And yours?”

“Harry Edward Styles!” the boy called out, just before he was engulfed in another cloud and was gone from view. 

Louis stood there and stared at the place where he had disappeared for a long time. Then he laid down on his cloud and stretching his limbs. It had been a tiring day, after all, and he hadn’t had time to rest ever since the previous morning. It was dreadfully cold up in the sky, with wind blowing from every direction, reminding him of the forthcoming winter. He no longer had his cloak, but this did not bother him. In fact, he was so exhausted that he rolled over and was fast asleep. 

In his dream, the tall wooden doors of a gold castle opened slowly, inviting him inside. In the halls, crowds and crowds of people were bustling about. The aura was bright and lively, and the music of a hundred violins flowed through the air like honey. The ballroom was filled with laughter and cheering, and men and women were dancing across the shiny marble floors. Oh, how fine their clothes were! The men wore crisp white blouses with the sleeves neatly rolled up, not a single wrinkle to be seen. The women wore dresses and robes made of the softest silk and embroidered in hundreds of tiny pink blossoms. With every step they took, the cloth shimmered like sunlight on a stream.

If you looked carefully enough, you would find, in the corner of the ballroom, a buffalo in a dressing gown waltzing clumsily by itself, with a tattered picture frame hanging on one of its horns. The windows were wide open, and the mild summer air flowed through them as though it were a river. Outside, there was a boy riding on the back of a huge butterfly as though it were a dragon. He had wild curly hair, wild lush green eyes, and an even wilder smile, and this was what Louis was happiest to see. The cuts and bruises on his body were gone, and he no longer had the frail, wispy look about him, but still he was wearing Louis’ worn travelling cloak around his shoulders like a cape.

And somewhere far, far away from all the commotion, perhaps a thousand miles north and another thousand miles upwards, there was a cloud on which laid a prince. He was disheveled from head to toe, but he was a prince nonetheless, and he was in a deep slumber as the cloud raced through the frosty night, propelled by the north wind. It was fast cloud, galloping through the skies like a racing horse, whizzing like a lightning bolt. It was like a fiery flame, streaking through the night! But a fire that burns bright is not meant to last, and soon, it was disintegrating. A fine drizzle settled over the kingdom, and the prince on the cloud was washed away with it.

But before he was completely gone, a tiny fragment of his gold heart was caught in the wind and blown away into the sky. It was carried far, far away by the storm, past deserts and jungles, past mountains and valleys; up, up into the air and through the clouds, until it eventually settled in the sky. There, above the kingdom where summer lasted all year long, he twinkled, and even today, you had only to look up into the sky during the summer to find him winking at you from the heavens.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this it is much appreciated!! pls leave some feedback or criticism if you want because as i said i am still pretty unexperienced in writing so having other people's opinions on this would be gr8 thanks
> 
> my instagram is gmaharry nd you can contact me there if you need to 
> 
>  
> 
> (EDIT: wankerville left kudos on this?? what the actual fucj im still internally screaminf)


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